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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483074">The Dead Can No Longer Be Ignored</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4b4l/pseuds/C4b4l'>C4b4l</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Gen, Horror, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Surreal, inspired by Romero and Fulci, no beta we die like Glenn, not using the z word though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:20:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4b4l/pseuds/C4b4l</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhea passes away quietly as peace settles across the ruins of Fodlan.</p><p>The nation must know, so the recently crowned king Dimitri first sets out for Enbarr. With him is the new Archbishop (and his beloved wife) and his former classmates. Together, they are all determined to help the people grieve. </p><p>But unbeknownst to them something horrible stirs after the former Archbishop's death. Something powerful. Something old.</p><p>Now, as reality hurtles screaming towards its death and hell consumes the streets, the King must rely on an old enemy to save his people. </p><p>That is, if he can save himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd &amp; Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Dead Can No Longer Be Ignored</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the full experience, I'd recommend listening to this:</p><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81Ro7vt_U8g</p><p>Also first fic, hooray! Let's see if this goes well.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Great pillars of fire erupted from underneath Enbarr. They stretched high enough to touch the night sky and to block the horizon. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, the king of the newly United Fodlan, stood in the middle of the road at the top of a hill. He was  helpless as he watched the great Imperial city burn below him, the smell of burning flesh and broken stone clogging his nose. The city’s population, screaming and panicked, rushed out from their homes and into the streets. They coalesced into no organized march but a wild, fear gripped stampede. Those that fell were crushed beneath the rest of the mob’s feet, their blood staining the road. </p><p>Dimitri yelled for them to stop, but the crowd could not hear him. It didn’t even seem that they could even see him. Wildly he called for order, but his royal influence held no match to the pure and wild fear that gripped the people. They acted as if some long forgotten primal instinct had taken their minds and removed them of their senses. </p><p>Dimitri called for help, but he received no response. He turned and realized to his horror that he was alone. No guards stood behind him. Byleth, the greatest warrior and his beloved wife was gone. His friends were nowhere to be found. He was one man with a meaningless title standing before the massed and uncontrollable horde of people driving towards him. What could have caused this madness? This sheer anarchy? From the flames, he was given his answer. </p><p>Even from this distance he could see it clearly. It was a bastard mockery of a living human being; as if it had at one point been human. It was covered in scars and it still glistened with blood. It’s left knee had been smashed, bone erupting from its wound, giving it a hobbled gait. It’s tattered leather armor shook with each clumsy step. In it’s right hand was a broken short sword that was covered in rust and in it’s left hand was...oh goddess... </p><p>A dead infant swung in it’s tight grasp. It’s cut throat was still spilling blood on the street. But despite it’s wound it still kicked and moved as if it still held life.</p><p>And then another walking corpse stepped from the fire. It held a great rusted shield and spear, its wounds and form just as gruesome as the first. Then another, armed as well.  And another, and another, and another! Before Dimitri’s terrified eyes came a never ending battalion of the living dead. </p><p>An unearthly howl suddenly pierced the air. The crowd froze in fear. The ghouls ceased their march and looked to the sky. A great silence settled across the city. Time seemed to stop.</p><p>Suddenly, the great flames of the inferno parted and in the sky appeared a pair of eyes. They were huge, bigger than the moon itself; unblinking and emotionless. They slowly scanned the city streets until they landed directly on Dimitri. Beneath their horrible gaze, he fell to his knees as if to pray. Another terrible howl screamed across the night sky.</p><p>The army of the living dead let out a wail of their own. Spurned on by their invisible master’s cry, the army of the dead charged with unnatural speed towards the mob of survivors. </p><p>That screaming mass of humanity stood no chance against that monstrous horde. They were butchered, slaughtered like cattle by the army’s unstoppable might. The streets ran red.</p><p>The living dead raised their weapons into the air and at once, let loose a wild, inhuman cheer as a mass celebration for their slaughter. To Dimitri’s terror, the ones who were killed rose from the ground and began to cheer alongside their murderers. The flames of the city themselves seemed to roar to life alongside that horrid cry of victory. </p><p>It was all too much. His old madness, the one that constantly nipped at the heels of his sane psyche, the one that drove him to madness during the war against the Empire crawled over his mind and smothered any surviving sense of rationality and reason. Tears fell from his one remaining eye.</p><p> He was laughing, or was he screaming? It didn’t matter to him anymore. The sounds to him were one and the same. </p><p>But before his madness completely consumed his mind however, a hand fell on Dimitri’s shoulder. Was it possible? Someone here to help? He turned his head, vainly attempting to block out the undead horde's wild celebration. Towering above him was his step-sister, Edelgard. El.</p><p>She wore a white dress stained red with blood from her stomach. Despite this though, her skin was warm and healthy, as if she had never died. Softly, she frowned, an emotion that looked like regret or pity spread across her face. She spoke: </p><p>“And as the final drop of soldier’s blood falls and dries against the earth, the oceans shall run black and the sky will darken forevermore as he rises over the corpses of the pretender gods…”</p><p>Despite the overwhelming sounds of Enbarr’s death throes, he could hear her perfectly as if they were in a library. Dimitri, panicked and in overwhelming anguish, could not even comprehend what she had said. Her voice pierced and enveloped him. The world around him seemed to fade away as he stared up at his lost step sister. </p><p>She was not one of his delusions. She could not be. She was warm. Real. The hand on his shoulder proved as much. A poisonous calm grew in his mind.</p><p>“El…” He said, “I’m so glad you're alive…”</p><p>All would be well. Edelgard was always calm and confident. Not like him. Edelgard could bring this madness to order. And he could finally rest. He was never cut out to be king anyway. No more madness. No more voices. No more pain. He could simply lay down and let oblivion overtake him. Simple, quiet rest.</p><p>Gently, Edelgard removed her hand from his shoulder and took a step back. She smiled. Everything would be alright. </p><p>A horrible and wet sound snapped Dimitri from his reverie. He was back. In the chaos. The horror. He heard the dead let out a mighty war cry as they rushed towards him from behind. He watched Edelgard in awe struck, gaping-mouth terror as her left arm gently fell from her shoulder and plopped on the ground. </p><p>Dimitri attempted to stand, to help her, to save her, TO DO SOMETHING FOR GODDESS’ SAKE! But as he stood he was violently yanked back to the ground. Something was holding him against the ground. He looked down and screamed. Staring back at him were human faces, contorting from the very stone bricks that made Enbarr’s streets. The cement that kept the bricks together had grown out from the cracks and held him to the ground. As he looked, he found that he could recognize them all. </p><p>Hubert Von Vestra. Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius. Fleche von Bergilez. Glenn. Patricia. His father. The people he had killed were staring back at him with empty and weeping eyes. The very ground he walked had transformed into a living, screaming thing. It was  dedicated to his failure; to the blood that he had spilled. </p><p>He tore his gaze from the ground just in time to see Edelgard’s right arm fall to the ground. Chunks of meat and bone continued to drift from her body. She didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. She only stared blankly at him as she fell to pieces. </p><p>All Dimitri could do was scream. It stopped nothing. The old madness roared back into his mind, completely drowning his senses in pure agony. The last thing he felt was a mass of blades being rammed through his back.</p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>“Dimitri!”</p><p>Dimitri’s eye flashed open at the sound of his name. Byleth, her usual stoic expression replaced with worry, had taken up his entire view. Behind her was Dedue, holding a small pouch of what looked like medicine. Slowly, understanding and reason flowed back into his mind. </p><p>He was sitting in a carriage with his beloved wife and his most trusted friend. They were riding from Fhirdiad to Enbarr, bringing news to prime minister Ferdinand Von Aegir that Rhea had passed on in her sleep. Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain were riding on horseback alongside the coach. His friends were with him and they were alive. His people were still alive. </p><p>“You were having a nightmare.”, Byleth stated, “Are you alright?”. </p><p>She gently cupped Dimitri’s head with her hands. The feeling of her palms against his cheeks calmed him. Grounded him. Slowly, he let go of the breath that he didn’t know he was holding. She looked composed, but he could see the tell-tale signs of worry. As subtle as she could be, he knew his wife well. She held warmth beneath that seemingly unchanging blank expression. </p><p>The nightmare would not leave his mind. Was it really a nightmare? It felt nothing like any of his others. Dimitri debated internally on whether he should tell them of his dream, but decided against it. It felt real. As if it had happened; or even worse would happen.</p><p>The mood had been very grim over the last few days. He could not make it worse. So he did the one thing he knew he could do best: he buried his fear. It didn’t always work, Byleth’s eye had grown wise to his worse habits, but it was all that he could do.</p><p>“It’s nothing, my beloved. I am fine.”</p><p>She did not believe him. He didn’t believe himself either.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*edit* I finally figured out who exactly is gonna 100% be in this fic, so the tags and text have been altered for that very reason</p><p>My Twitter is /@C4b4l1</p></blockquote></div></div>
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